Snow is beautiful Right?
by Yonda628
Summary: "Snow is supposed to be pure, breathtaking, and beautiful. But today, all its ever done is hurt me. In ways that even I, myself can't seem to comprehend." - More Hurt than comfort. Research paper I wrote about bloody sunday for School.


It was snowing. But when does it not? I see the snow fall from the grey sky with grace and elegance that only can be created by something far beyond human comprehension. The blinding glisten of the snowflakes that fall on the ground is enough to strike you speechless. Snow can be absolutely gorgeous.

But not today.

The Russian people are very angry. They want better jobs, better lives, even freedom. Can you believe that? Just the thought of that word makes want to hurt someone.

Maybe even kill someone.

They march onward through St. Petersburg wth the guidance of Father Gapon.  
He was always such a nice man. I guess he just wants a nicer life as well. But why would they protest against me?

I keep those people on their feet. I help them feed their families. I'm more than just the representative of Russia. I am Russia.

The greatly feared nation, known for being large, cold, and for how everyone here hates each other quietly. I've gotten this nation up to the level it's at now. I've given them their strength.

The crowd continues to march towards the Winter Palace. Troops stand there, anxious and scared of such a large crowd. Their nerves may get the best of them. I don't blame them though. My friend, Toris, walks up behind me.

"Um, Ivan, what's wrong?"

Just so you know, he's not from Russia. He's actually from Lithuania. Anyways, I know why they're doing this. They aren't trying to overthrow the government or the royal family.

They want guidance, reassurance that everything will be alright.

They want Nicholas to hear them. But I am the only one who knows this. I want them to be happy, believe me, I really do, but I can't let them run around, thinking they can start a rally whenever they want. They need to know their restrictions, like what is prohibited and what is allowed, whether they like it or not.

No matter how dejected they feel, or how wretched their lives may seem, they need to know their boundaries.

"Why do they always end up hating me," I asked turning towards my friend. "I try and try to make them happy, and what do I get in return? Complaints, complaints, complaints. It's just not fair!" Their hatred for me has driven me to the brink more times than I can possible keep track of.

The effects of it cause me to lash out easily, hurt those around me, and have created an ever-burning and intense hatred for myself.

I cannot help if they are deprived of their freedom. I am not the Tsar, nor am I a member of the royal family. I can't even be appointed the job of the Tsar.

As I muse over my predicament, I begin to have a peculiar, but familiar feeling, a feeling of wanting to hear the screams of fear, pain, and sadness from those who hate me, a feeling of wanting to see the bloodshed of those… those traitors, and a feeling knowing that I can do that and they can do nothing about it.

Absolutely nothing.

I've been told that there are about 150,000 people in the crowd. Nicholas told me they want freedom and want to overthrow us both. I know better than that… right?

'_No, you don't know better.'_ A strange voice told me. I looked around the room, but it was only me and Toris. _'In fact, you might as well give up, Ivan.' You can't help them and they do not want your help. They see you as nothing. You're not even a human to them. You're lower than the lowest possible. You don't deserve to exist.'_

"No," I whispered tears welling in my eyes, threatening to fall. "I'm not a bad person. I can help them."

'_You are a bad person, Ivan. They don't want you help. This is going to end in disaster because of you. It will be the succession of multiple battles and wars. And guess what, Ivan? YOU are the cause. That's right, YOU caused it. ALL of it!'_

"No, I'm not," I shout, sounding like a paranoid schizophrenic with the solitary voice that only I can hear. "Stop it! Leave me alone!"

Toris walks up behind me. "Um, Ivan…? What's wrong? Who are you talking to?"

'_Go on Ivan. Keep thinking about your impending doom. Even if you try to be optimistic, they will only shun you. You don't want that to happen do?'_

"No…"

'_Then go out there and do something about it! Give them the kind of emotional trauma that will scar them for all eternity, right down to the soul. Rob them of their peace of mind to the point where it's irrevocable. Plot the demise of their so called "purity" and watch in amusement as their innocence dies slowly and agonizingly. Listen up, Ivan. Your objective is simple. Show them who runs the show here. Do NOT accept pleas of mercy and know that every single casualty was bound to happen, even if caused by your own hand. Even the death of a loved one or friend was destined to happen. It's fate.'_

"But all they want is guidance."

It laughed at me mockingly.

'_You seriously believe that? Wow, you need to face reality, Braginski. Don't be soft and discreet when facing them. I know how you get. You may be tall, but you're just a big teddy bear. Be strict, hard to get past. You have a future revolution on your hands, and the effects will last for centuries. Treat this crowd as if they have broken a serious regulation; punishable by death.'_

Tears continued to stream down my face. However, I stood up and walked towards the window, where my rifle lay.

"Iv-"

I began to grab my rifle. "Toris… am I really that bad of a person? Do they hate me because I'm a bad person?" I walked passed him, my arm grazing his. He was shaking like a leaf. Even Toris is afraid of me now.

I opened the door. "The children of this nation need discipline… and we don't want children who can't play nice… da?"

The pureness of snow vanished on January 22nd. Instead, it was stained with the blood of innocent civilians, men, women, and children. It was tainted with the hatred they bore for their lives… and for me. Snow is supposed to be pure, breathtaking, and beautiful.

But today, all its ever done is hurt me. In ways that even I, myself can't seem to comprehend.


End file.
